Harvey is working on percentages this week, or the concept thereof, prompted by his desire to read everything on the orange juice container.
"One hundred dot line dot," he says to me at breakfast.
"The dot line dot means percent," I tell him. "One hundred percent. That means 'all of it.' All of it is Florida orange juice. Zero percent would mean none of it."
Later today we are cuddling on the couch.
"Mama," Harvey says, "I love you one hundred percent."